Trapped
by yamimitsukai
Summary: Crowley and Dean Winchester are trapped in a locked room together for an hour. Tensions are running high and the two of them hate the other. The problem? Can they survive that long together without killing the other? The answer? Wouldn't you like to know.


_**After two days of spotty writing, staying up past 4AM on one of those days trying to finish, I now present to you, the monster of piece that was supposed to be a drabble. Its definitely not a drabble. Be warned, there are quite a few naughty mouths. Very naughty, is what it should have been…**_

_**And I suppose I should add a disclaimer here: I do not own. Yay.**_

* * *

Prompt: **Writing prompt! Refresh your dash and then write about how Crowley is locked in a room for an hour with the first person on your dash. No cheating.**

**- Ended up being Dean**

* * *

Crowley had received a call a few minutes ago, to come to a abandoned warehouse in somewhere-in-the-middle-of-nowhere Texas. He reluctantly went inside and found himself wandering the vast space of the warehouse, wondering what it was the caller wanted him to do here. After making a circle, he snorted and tried to fly out.

Crowley frowned as he couldn't teleport. He swore under his breath and walked over the door; as expected it was locked from the outside. "Bollocks!"

A loud yell interrupted his stream of cursing and he turned to find Dean Winchester standing in the middle of the room, yelling at nothing.

"You piece of shit, when I figure out who did this, your ass is toast, you hear me? BLACKENED FRIED TOAST!"

Crowley coughed lightly and Dean whirled around, fists flying up into an aggressive stance.

"Crowley, what do you want, you asshole?" He growled. Crowley just raised an eyebrow.

"Me? I don't want anything. I-"

"Then why the fuck did you bring me here?" Dean took a step forward, face falling into a deeper scowl.

"I didn't, you sodding piece of shit!" Crowley snapped back. "Why would I want to willingly spend any time with an arse like you?" He gestured to the door, angrily. "We're locked in, and I can't leave, so I suggest you start being nice before I rip you apart and your spread your limbs in all four corners of this bloody room!"

Dean blinked. "Alright, geez. Calm your freaky demon head off." Crowley smiled, toothily. "Calm? I am calm, Deano."

Dean shivered, and immediately attempted to hide it. "So, who brought you here? And why?" Crowley shrugged.

"Hell if I know. I got a phone call telling me to come here, so I did. And know we're lock-" at that moment, Crowley's phone beeped. He opened his phone and found a new text message waiting for him.

**[Text]: You two are trapped her together for an hour! Have fun, and try not to kill each other! There's lots of space and some blankets in a corner…..( ; **

Crowley's hand shook in anger, nearly crushing his phone. Oh, he had an inkling of who it was, now. A very strong inkling. He forced himself to calm down and carefully put his phone away. Focus on the phone, he had far too many contacts on his phone to loose it now.

"Any information you'll like to share, asshole?" Dean had moved and was now leaning against a wall. Crowley glared at the oldest Winchester, who responded with a glare of his own. Crowley's was better.

"An anonymous text saying we're stuck in here for an hour."

Dean's expression made everything better. Crowley laughed, his anger mostly contained after seeing the hunter's face scrunch up in shock and horror.

"St-stuck with you?" He spluttered, his face turning slightly red from anger.

"Oh Deany, no need to hurt my feelings. I won't bite you. Much."

"You fucke-" Dean pulled out the demon-killing knife from his jacket. "By the time this hour is done, no one is going to recognize you down in Hell!" he hissed. Crowley raised his hands in the universal 'I surrender sign'.

"Cool down, tiger. I was _joking_. You do know what that is, right?" Crowley rolled his eyes. "Look, we're stuck here for a measly hour. You can contain your bloody homicidal urge for that long, can't you?" Dean gritted his lips and reluctantly put away the knife, folding his arms across his chest.

"You want to have a truce, Crowley?"

"And why not? I've done nothing but help you boys, since the first day you saw me. I gave up everything to aid in your little quest of cleaning up your mess. I don't see why you're antagonistic towards me."

"Because you're a demon, you jackass! And its been proven that demons don't keep their word!"

"I always keep my word! Its part of my job description, you moron!"

Dean snarled. "Yeah? Then where's Bobby's soul, you lying piece of shit?" Crowley smirked. So this is what it was all about.

"Robert will get his soul back, don't worry. Before he dies, obviously."

"And what's wrong with now?" Dean's hands were tightening into fists by his side.

"I can't do now. Ask me again in a little while." Crowley sighed and looked at his watch. Fifty-five minutes to go. The little wanker was going to make this hour seem like the longest hour known to man wasn't he? The years he had spent on the rack already seemed like a shorter time!

"Why. Not. Now?" Dean was spitting his words out, pulling out the knife again and walking closer to Crowley.

"Do you know what souls are, Winchester? They're power, energy, its like a nuclear reactor for those who know how to use it." Crowley pulled his lips back in a mocking grin. "And I'll be using Robert's soul until I don't need to anymore."

Dean growled and grabbed Crowley by his jacket, slamming him into a wall. "Give Bobby his soul, now. Or I swear I'll knife you right here."

Crowley laughed and used his hands to grab Dean's, forcing him to let go. "Let's get one thing straight, Winchester. You kill me, your precious Bobby never gets his soul back. The contract would be broken on my end and his soul will end up in Hell in ten years. " Crowley side stepped Dean and dusted off his suit jacket. "Robert will get his soul back, don't you worry. Next time you decide to make a deal with the devil, be more specific." Crowley walked to the other side of the warehouse and sat down. No reason to get caught unawares by Dean's temper.

Time passed in silence from the demon and the hunter. Crowley looked at his phone again and saw that only thirty minutes remained in their captivity. It had felt like a week.

"Oi, Deanie-baby! You don't happen to have anything interesting with you, do you?" Dean glared back at him.

"I still have my knife, that I'm itching to throw at you."

"I thought we were over the whole trying to kill me deal, Deano."

"It's just been put on hold." Dean replied coldly from his corner. Crowley rolled his eyes.

"You're so harsh to me, Dean. Seriously, this bad boy attitude of yours is getting rather old."

"Yeah, well hand over Bobby's soul and see how bad I get, you ass."

"And why would I hand over the one leverage I have against you boys? Why do you think I'm still alive after all this time when everyone else who crosses you is either dead or caged? I don't underestimate you scoobies. You might figure out a way to get dear Robert's soul back on your own, but until that happens, I'm keeping the one safe card I have in keeping myself safe from you BABOONS!"

Dean just looked murderous. Crowley nearly threw his hands up in exasperation. "You boys are certainly dimwitted, aren't you? You assume all demons are out to kill you or everyone around you. I hate to break it to you, mate; but not all of us are like that!"

"Yeah? Give me some good examples! Sam thought Ruby was helping him, and looked where that ended up! Fucking Armageddon!"

"Ruby was a power hungry bitch, even when she was alive. Demon boy King Sam Winchester, remember that title? What sort of person who is chasing after power wouldn't go after him? And what about Cassy?"

"Cassy?"

Crowley gave a hollow laugh. "Aren't you something, Winchester? A demon pledges allegiance to your brother and of course you'd forget about her. A demon tries to kill you, you remember every single one of their names. Classy." Dean remained silent, a stubborn set in his jaw.

"Didn't believe her, did you? Thought she was just a lying, manipulative demon, right? Want to know a secret? Lilith had a lot of fun with her. Or what's left of her, anyway."

"What are you playing at, Crowley?" Dean was stiff, his posture absolutely straight and tense.

"I'm imparting a bit of wisdom on you, you fucktard. Quit classifying us in one category. Yes, most of the demons went to follow Lucifer, but the rest want nothing to do with him. I personally helped your lot, in case you forgot, at great risk to myself."

"Lucifer was going to blow your brains out, anyways. Isn't that what you said? I'm almost sorry he's still not out to do so!" Crowley's eyes flashed in anger.

"Is that what you said to your angel, Castiel? Oh, the rest of your species have only been trying to destroy the world by starting an apocalypse using me and my brother which ultimately will kill us in the end, because they have a skewed version of Paradise, so you can't help us without me or Sammy here threatening you every ten seconds!"

Crowley was breathing heavily after his rant, his anger coming back in full force. He had given up everything for the damm Winchesters; yes it was primarily for his own interests, but he could have just as easily made it ten times harder for them and not bother with meeting them at all. He could have been living in house comfortable house, with his tailor at hand and multiple bottles of craig all at his disposal. Instead, he was forced to reside in a hovel, far away from the comforts of a city because every sodding demon had been after his hide. And the brats had to gall to not even _thank_ him for anything.

As Dean stood there in shock, Crowley opened his phone again to check the time. Five minutes had passed. Bloody hell, time was going extra slow just to piss him off!

It took another agonizing slow three minutes before Dean responded.

"Look, I-uh, I don't like thinking that demons can be good. Its not natural. But for its worth, I suppose, I'm sorry about Cassy and uh, thanks. I guess, for your help." he stuttered out. Crowley didn't think he had heard anything anymore amusing in his life.

"First rule to survive in Hell, Winchester. You have no friends, only associates. I don't care that Cassy got herself killed; it just means she wasn't smart enough to stay alive." He held up his hand and lifted two fingers.

"Two, learn not to see in black and white. Its rather degrading and you will get innocent people killed that way. Not that I care, but it is rather tiring having to listen to you and the Moose whine about god knows what and how it was all a demon's fault. In case you didn't notice, the angels don't exactly have your best interests at heart, now do they?"

Dean opened his mouth to argue but Crowley spoke over him.

"Even Castiel helped bring the apocalypse along, didn't he? And you forgave him pretty quick for that didn't you? Must have been those big blue eyes."

"Cas died for us!"

"And what? Others didn't?"

"No, you know what. I'm done talking about this. I don't need to talk to you about my actions."

"You do if they involve trying to kill me!"

"Well then I won't try to kill you, jackass!" Crowley refrained from smirking and held out his hand with a serious face.

"Shake on it." Dean was obviously not thinking straight or was much too angry to properly think. He didn't even hesitate to grab Crowley's hand.

"Thanks very much, darling." Crowley drawled, once the tingle of power that signified a deal being made had passed. "Its a deal."

"Wha-"

"You can't honestly think that kissing was the only way demons could make a deal? Don't worry, your soul is safe."

"You utter bastard! You lying, conniving son of a bitch!"

"Language, Deano. I didn't lie; I simply maneuvered you into a position beneficial to me. The deal is simple. You don't kill me and I don't pry about your actions or feelings. Basically, no chick-flick moments for you from me."

"Then you don't need-"

Crowley broke into Dean's tirade before it could get started. "Robert's soul for insurance. No, you're right I don't really. There's always the problem of the Moose, but you can take care of him for me. But I won't give it up just yet. I still need it, as I already said. So you and Robert can wait a few more bloody days!"

Dean was seething, but remained quiet. Crowley checked the time. "Oh, look fifteen minutes of this sodding long hour left. What shall we talk about?"

"Ways I'm going to torture you, slowly and painfully." Dean hissed.

"Well, you don't want to be boring and use the same old tricks Alastair did? Please, medieval tools are completely last century. You have more imagination in the twenty-first century! And electricity."

"What the fuck does electricity have to do with anything?"

"You are _supposed_ to be more creative than people born in the seventeenth century. What about hooking demons up to electricity and then pouring Holy Water on them. Sting from the water plus boom of the water hitting electricity?" Dean stared with his mouth agape in shock. A demon, giving a human, who had gone to hell and tortured other future demons, torture tips?

"You are invited to join in the conversation, Deanie Bear. For fuck's sake, it would make the time fly by a bit faster than it already is."

"What….. about coating the electric wires in salt and digging the wire into the skin?"

"Oh, cut them open a bit and force a part of the wire into the body….I like that."

It was a bit more than fifteen minutes later when a sound of wings interrupted their talk, and the demon and hunter turned to see Castiel standing in front of them, more ruffled than usual and looking desperately (in Crowley's opinion) at Dean.

"Dean….I have been looking everywhere for you. What did Crowley do?" Crowley was just about to defend himself when Dean stepped in.

"He got stuck in here, same as me. You find who did it?" Castiel glared at Crowley for good measure and turned back to Dean.

"No. You just vanished from the motel and I was unable to sense you until a minute ago. It is troubling." Crowley snorted.

"Well don't let me keep you lovebirds apart. I'm gone." He was thrilled when he was able to fly out of the warehouse and he immediately went to his new flat. Crowley wasn't surprised to find his kitchen light on.

"Did you really have to trap me with the Winchester." He grumbled to the figure busy eating a fruity chocolate cake with extra sprinkles on his counter.

"Crowls! You're back! How was your date?"

"You are a bloody moron, you know that? Nothing wrong in coming back to life in a mysterious fashion after the threat is over you know."

"But I don't want to…" He whined. "I like being able to hide out in your house, Crowls!"

Crowley rolled his eyes.

"I refuse to believe that you were ever an archangel, Gabriel. You are simply far too childish." Gabriel stuck his tongue out in response and took a large bite of his cake. "You never told me how your date went!"

"Gabriel…for the last bloody time….I do not, nor ever, have a crush on Dean. He's practically married to Castiel already. And it was terrible. You are a terrible friend."

Gabriel just grinned wider, more plots and plans running through his devious mind.

* * *

_***dead* Here's what a get by asking for a prompt from Tessa...Would you believe me if I said that this was originally going to be crack and not this angsty "let's talk about feelings" thing? **_

_**Yeah, I hardley believe it now, either. **_

_**Mind telling me if you liked it? It would boost my author ego. :) **_


End file.
